Spicing Things Up (Chapter 3) (Patreon)

The effect from Ashley’s foot was suffered most egregiously over Cody’s head, where sweat was now stinging his eyes and filling up his cheeks with stuffy sloppy perspiration. Sputtering and mincing in a half-pleading tone that he knew wouldn’t help win him any mercy, the shrinker mourned the position he’d put himself in here. The blame belonged squarely with him, after all, and so there was nothing Cody could do but swallow the self-pity, more painfully swallow another mouthful of feminine foot sweat while achingly fondling his tongue around the puttied curve of Ashley’s pinky toe, and just hope it satisfied her enough not to injure him.

“There, that’s more like it. Not that you should get a medal for just doing your job, but you really make me expect so little out of you, slave, that I can’t help but celebrate when your shriveled little brain figures out the right thing to do!” Ashley declared. “So congratulations, I guess I really should keep you around to keep cleaning my feet, instead of tossing you out with the rest of the trash!”

Despite her smile and the amiable swell of her tone, she definitely didn’t reward Cody for his competence, instead dragging her leg forward along the floor, while balling her toes and heaving the six-incher hard enough beneath the ball of her foot that he was scraped right along with her. The lubrication from all the liquefied sock grease now slicking the shrinker’s whole body was the only reason this punishing move didn’t distend him into traction. A squeak emanated from under Ashley’s heel, though it wasn’t immediately clear whether it was due to fleshy friction from the bottom of her sweaty foot rubbing the floor, or an involuntary protest from Cody in between nauseating licks.

It was official. This whole libido-driven ploy was a massive mistake, perhaps the worst of Cody’s whole life, and he knew it. There was no way he could talk himself into enjoying this torment. If only he’d set the transmogrifier to make his fiancé into his (he thought) black-hearted dream girl giantess for only an hour, instead of an entire two days, just on the slight off-chance that this exact thing happened, where the feelings of getting trampled, degraded, and water-boarded by a filthy sole didn’t live up to his fetishy hopes. One hour would’ve been hell enough, but they were only a few minutes now into this tortuous long haul. And already Cody knew he didn’t have the stamina or willpower to make it through an entire weekend at the perfect yet remorseless feet of his love, who was sure now in her modified state to keep on testing the limits of his body to be battered by her naked arches, his tongue to keep scooping up the nastiest liquids to drip out of her sole creases, and his brain to handle such psyche-withering meanness.

Somehow, he had to right his wrongs and switch her back. If only he could do that, he knew he’d never again wish for “more” whenever the real Ashley insisted on the gentlest possible foreplay.

“All right, I guess we can call that progress,” the giantess shrugged. After shifting Cody’s spread-eagle position below her deadly size-7, resting her heel over his hips and giving him the beefiest midsection of her sole valley to lap at, she bent her arch into a deep curve, anchored off her toes and tipping the back end as high so she could inspect the rosy underside.

Dread alone had succeeded in making the shrinker eat away at most of the drenched lintballs and gleaming sudor that previously decorated Ashley’s sole, leaving it just as clean as could be done using Cody’s limited tools, though she still had no trouble pressing down so hard on him for a moment that the little fellow feared his chest might cave in under the brunt of her bulbous toes. She released the pressure just in time, picking up then slamming her foot down on the ground beside him, while Cody wheezed and tremored, half-expecting there to now be an impression of his gigantic fiancé’s foot imprinted into his shrunken torso like memory foam.

“There now, was THAT so hard?” she sneered. Without waiting for an answer, the blonde reached for a water bottle on the coffee table and took a hard swig from it, while the self-made self between her insteps carried on struggling to see straight again. “That’s a trick question, obviously, because I don’t ask you to do anything hard. Hell, some people have real slaves who can do actually complex things. With you, I just have to dumb it down so far, that pretty much all you’re good for is licking my feet and letting me wipe all the dirt off on your body. Lucky for you, that’s still useful to me. But, you know-”

Before Ashley could hurl further insults, her cell phone rang. Seeing no reason to excuse herself from the current one-sided conversation with her foot-pet, the giantess brought the device to her ear. It was unsettling for Cody to see her put on a smile and speak again in a sunny tone closer to what she used to direct lovingly at him, when not under the influence of the transmogrifier.

“Hey, Kayla. What’s up? Oh, not a whole lot, just got back from the gym. Getting in a little R&R time before I clean up. Yep, I tried that whole routine you showed me. HIIT is a killer, I’m telling you! Huh? No, no problem at all! All of you are welcome over here anytime. I’ll just hop in the shower. Uh-huh, it’s just me here. Unless you’re counting the merchandise. Ha! Wait, who? Quit joking around, Kayla, I said it’s just me here. Come on over and we’ll make an afternoon out of it!”

While Ashley chattered on, her attention focused again on the world above her ankles, Cody realized her mind had drifted away from him as easily as though he was a discarded sneaker. And frankly, he guessed she valued those more highly than him at this point. However, he also realized - after the urgent palpitations caused by hearing that Ashley’s family might be on the way over soon - that this was probably his one and only window to reach the alteration device, while the giantess was distracted. The thing was still close by on the couch above, and even at six inches tall, Cody doubted he would’ve had much trouble to climb up the side of the furniture, except for the fact that he was still seeing stars from when his de facto owner casually pancaked him into the floor while making him tongue-vacuum up enough squalid saline to get drunk off. Try as he might to stand up, it still took more wrestling effort than Cody had required to yank that stuck-down sock off Ashley’s ped.